Leaded Skies

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A brown asian jeepney driver, goes on a dark, insane and psychedelic misadventure as hard drugs and leaded gasoline are consumed. This goes nowhere. Nicholas is stoned, his name is then shortened to Kulas, Is the author stoned? We will never know. Join him on his journey, as he kills his friends engages in lgbt bestiality, and finds Jesus,

Humor / Children
Age Rating:

Long Hard Road to Nowhere

One cold early morning, somewhere along a dilapidated alleyway in the slums the sound of a long hard drag immediately followed by violent yet stifled coughing was punctuated by the brilliant observation of the man at fault of said noise...

“This is the shit, you just got the best stuff, Joe!” Said Kulas

In between coughs Joe replied
“Damn straight boi, got this from Kool-J”

This was my life, I am no one but a humble jeep driver, my name is Nicholas but lost somewhere in translation, it has now become Kulas, my pal Joe is also a jeep driver, but he doesn’t share my degree of enthusiasm for illicit substances

Coughing intensifies.
“Woah! Aaaaaalriiiiiight, It’s tiiiiiime to flyyyyyyyyy!”
I announce.

Later that day, along a highway in the midst of city pollution, heatwaves and communal passenger complaints, a thoroughly stoned Kulas mutters in self observation.

Goddamned, that was some evil weed. Holy shit! Them cars and all be so fast, what’s wrong with these people?

Why are all these cars and jeeps and motorcycles passing by me so fast? Why are my passengers so noisy? What are they even saying, oh gods...

" Yo! we getting off now old man, you way stoned, thirty kilometers per hour just ain’t gonna cut it man!” Complained one passenger.

" The people in a hurry man, you gonna drive stoned? Might as well, hit rocks instead of grass!” Another suggested before hopping off.

What the hell are these people talking about? I’m flying.

Some time later that evening under the rain at some nondescript jeep terminal, the jeep drivers were having the occasional light drinking as they sheltered themselves from the weeping sky.

Over cussings and distant music our esteemed Joe politely lectures Kulas on his blatant misuse of unauthorized medication.

" Screw you Kulas! You’re lucky you ain’t in jail, damn it man, next time could you be a little more discreet for Christ’s sake! One day dem coppers finna crack down on us yo!”

“Umm okay? But why for ‘Christ’s’ sake, why not for Hitler’s?” Kulas asks half in jest.

" Y’all mothafuckas need Jesus!”
A lone Julio says in the background mid urination from some corner of a wall.

Kulas shrugs and makes a general inquiry, completely indifferent to everyone with an opinion of him.
" Alright homies, who’s thirsty?”

"How the hell can my tank be empty?!" A distant, and unnoticed Nanding laments...

"Ya bois better be ready, this shit got a special mix..." Kulas grins as he offers each colleague a shot of his mystery cocktail.

"Kulas, you’re the the first on my haunt list if I die"
Joe says, in a foreboding fashion, as Nanding persists on silently lamenting the sudden emptiness of his jeep's gas tank.

Kulas awakens confused, and hung over in a dilapidated room somewhere in the slums, he did not know whose room he was in, as memories of the night before slowly resurfaced.

Where the hell am I? Huh, blood? Oh, I was puking blood, oh by the way, Joe. I’m sorry you died, I guess the gasoline mix isn’t for everyone. Julio, Nanding, sorry for getting you guys sent to the hospital. Oh and Nanding, sorry for stealing your gas, well, you did get to drink a bit anyway. So I lit up the weed I soaked in rugby for a day, which I had in my pocket.

Heavy footsteps approach.

"Who the hell are you?!" A rather large woman demanded.

A still down on the floor coughing Kulas mutters "Uhhn, sorry mam, let me just finish this last blunt."

A hurricane of kitchen utensils flies toward our hero, as he flees the scene with the demon woman threatening death, hell and everything in between as more knives, forks and frying pans flew Kulas' way.

"Here’s your change"
Kulas releases the coins over his back to his passenger as he kept driving his jeep as he kept his eyes on the road.

*clink *clank -went the change...

"Oh. Damn, everyone’s gone, wait, why am I a junkyard, where are my wheels. Shit, Kool-J’s shrooms were damn straight wicked" Kulas spoke to himself in utter surprise as reality suddenly and shamelessly laid bare.

"Dude, look, I understand you killed me, and yes, I’m haunting you right now. But I also know you just wanted us all to have a good time, so, turn your life around man, it’s not too late." Joe's ghost advised from among the passenger seats.

"Y’all mothafuckaz need Jesus!" Echos an old saying of good man Julio's ghost.

"You hear that Kulas, even Julio cares" Joe added.

"What in the actual fuck"
Kulas observed as he scrambled off of his junk yard jeep, and opted to search for and procure sedatives from reliable Kool-J, in fear of possible insanity.

"Sweet Jesus, I hella dunno wheres I am this time. This gots to be hell, Mama am scared, why is the grass black, holy shittin red and grey hell sky, wtf. "

It was raining, every drop felt like ice. Kulas damned Kool-J, damned the LSD, and had serious regrets on eating the mushrooms he rubbed on a hallucinogenic frog’s juices, and also wondered if perhaps it was the construction adhesive he had been chewing on. Nevertheless, our protagonist utterly felt what in his own words would be; screwed to all hell.

He was surrounded by demons, they whispered incoherently from a good distance. He wandered in the dark, with scattered memories, Without a clue to where he headed, already forgetting his name. Already struggling to recall if he actually had a home or a family to run to. He no longer remembers what he used to do for a living. He cursed Kool-J's substances again, as he stared at the colorful pills on the palm of his hands, he blamed each one, yet accepted that they were all he had left. As he walked on, he napped under an old mango tree he had non-figuratively stumbled hard upon.

He awakened to dawn’s light. There was a beautiful woman he did not know laying beside him, wearing a long white dress. She started waking up.

"Good morning" The woman greeted.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Secret, by the way, I’m hungry." Said the woman in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Go get your own food, I ain’t hungry, besides I don’t know you. I don’t even know where I am."

"What do you mean? You’re home."

I had no idea what was happening, she was being very intimate with me, she was a woman of few words, though she was very sensual, I could not understand.

Demons whisper in the backkground.

I gave her the pills I still had, and let her drink some of the gasoline I still had in a plastic bottle. She had no complaint. I fell in love. For a few days we lived and loved beneath the old mango tree, under the influence of my dwindling substances.

"Love, I’m sick and dying, maybe gasoline just isn’t for everyone, don’t worry it’s not your fault I’m not meant to live very long. We’re much alike, Kulas, perhaps you’re not a decent man, but at least, you were kind to me. One day the nightmare will end, and you’ll wake up to live a second life free of all these things you’re dependent on"

"Please love, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’ll change, I promise, I’ll change."

It started to rain, the demons hid within their mounds, the last of my drugs were spent. I cried and loved the nameless woman one last time before the world started ending. I could almost imagine hearing an incoherent sad romantic Japanese nu-metal song playing in the background. I saw Joe, make the most exaggerated face-palm he had never done when he was alive. I could hear Nading telling me to pay for his gas, I started to remember everything. Then I heard Julio in the distance.

"Y’all mothafuckas need jesus." Echoed on.

I woke up, and the world was back to what it was. The sky was blue, and the demons were gone.

"Sick, man! this is sick!" A bystander exclaimed as followed up with a good vomit.

It took a while for Kulas to understand, still reeling from the shock of reentry to reality. Eventually he understood what was "sick". Julio was right he thought, he did need Jesus he reflected more. He intended to keep his promise, he was going to change, for Christ’s sake, no, better yet, for his own sake.

The beautiful woman he had loved was gone, in her stead was a white dog, a male one. The dream was over.

It was time to move on, I stared into the nothingness, I put the dog into the ground. What did this all mean? It didn’t matter, I was alive, even when I should be dead. I snapped out of it, and ignored the people, I started to head back to where I should be, and while I still have time maybe I should confess to a priest, I have to cleanse my sins and live life anew.

Because holy shit, man, I don't even know what this was all about.


If you made it this far without skipping a word congratulations, here's your cookie for the death of your brain cells: I produced this as well for another school project, the difference between this and the Animalism story, is that I made this knowing full well it was going to be read, I liked the professor, he was from an esteemed company, I wanted to impress him, or at best shock him, it did neither, I think he just got confused, and slightly unsettled, good enough man. Anyway this was in radio script format I only realized how hard it was to convert, I'm not sure if the humor got carried over correctly also of course I did not mention the soundtrack I had in mind for each scene anyway noose96 out, and you sad animals stay alive :3

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